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Or that I’ve seen how perky her little tits are under her wet clothes.
Scheming to get revenge against Caleb by seducing his wife was almost a joke at first. It wasn’t a serious plan, but suddenly, it's as if she’s fallen into my lap, and I can’t ignore that.
She’s making this too easy.
“Hey there.” I feel a soft hand drift across my back.
I’m sitting alone at one of the tables in the back of the club when Sage takes the seat across from mine. With her bubblegum-pink hair, tattoos, and face full of piercings, Sage doesn’t look like the kind of girl you’d expect to be with the pastor’s son—but alas, she is.
“How’s your dad?” she asks with concern.
“He’s good. Thanks,” I reply. “I actually just spoke with him earlier today. He’s all settled and already complaining about one of the nurses who bosses him around too much.”
She lets out a soft giggle. “I’m glad he’s doing well.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“And what about you?” she asks pointedly.
“I’m fine,” I say with a shrug.
“That apartment at Caleb’s is working out?”
“It’s perfect,” I reply. “Caleb and his wife are very…” My voice trails for a moment. “…accommodating.”
“I hope they’re treating you with respect,” she adds with a stern expression.
Which makes my brow furrow.
“Of course they are. Why would you ask that?”
She lets her head tilt to the side. “The Goodes are not like us, Dean.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I reply with a snicker. “You realize I basically grew up around these people, right?”
“I keep forgetting that,” she replies with a shake of her head. “They’re still new to me. They mean well, but you should have seen them when I started coming around.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know if Caleb Goode is a big fan of mine,” I add with a coy smirk.
“No, that’s not you,” she replies, waving her hand. “Caleb doesn’t like anyone. How’s Briar been?”
The corner of my mouth lifts into a crooked smile. “She’s been great.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I can’t help but laugh. “It just means she’s been very hospitable, the perfect Southern host.”
I don’t miss the way Sage rolls her eyes. “I’m sure she has. I like Briar. I really do. But the woman strives for perfection. Perfect house, perfect husband, perfect children, perfect life.”
I blink down at the table, remembering how Briar came to my room last week, opening up about some of the struggles she and Caleb have had over the years. It’s not my business and definitely not for me to share. But I wish I could tell Sage that Briar’s life probably isn’t as perfect as she thinks it is.
“Maybe having you around will help her loosen up a little bit,” she says. “I’d really love to see her let go. I’m sure she’d be a lot happier if she did.”
“You don’t think she’s happy?” I ask. I have this nagging curiosity now when it comes to Caleb’s wife. As if she’s like an onion, and I’m desperate to peel back all the layers.
Because Sage is right. Briar does present herself and her life as being perfect, but it’s not real. There has to be a real person in there somewhere.
“I think she wants everybody to believe she’s happy,” Sage replies. “But that woman gives so much. It just makes me wonder if she’s asking for what she deserves in return.”
